


A Rope Burns Upon a Pyre

by guillotineChamberlain



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Murder, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 15:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18479119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guillotineChamberlain/pseuds/guillotineChamberlain
Summary: The life of Neophyte Redglare, as told from her perspective. The story is written in a format similar to The Homestuck Epilogues. It will be canon-compliant when possible, but expect headcanonical events to happen as imagined by the author. Characters' dialogues will be written in Dancestor quirks, modified when necessary (for example, Psiionic will use a simplified form of Mituna's quirk). In the case where a quirk is unknown, one will be created.The story will contain adult themes, but there will be no pornographic content. Expect heavy violence and gore.





	A Rope Burns Upon a Pyre

Your blood runs cold as hundreds of trolls lay their hands on you. You try to fight back, but their approach was sudden and their numbers are too many. The world spins around you as you are hoisted up against your will. You begin to panic as you feel the rough scratchy texture of a rope being strung around your neck. In your last moments, you gain tunnel vision as a figure stands before you with a devilish grin.  
  
_1 dont w4nt to d13_ , you try to cry out to no avail as a lowblood hand covers your mouth. The noose is tightened around your neck, and your support is kicked from under you as your neck is snapped and everything goes to white.

 

* * *

 

You bolt awake in terror as teal-colored sweat runs down your forehead. Your breathing is heavy and irregular as you try to process what just happened. This was the third time you've had this same nightmare, and it always ends the same way: your body hanged from a noose. The only thing you are ever able to remember about the mysterious figure is their smile. That damned smile. It haunts you.

You look at the clock and realize you have no time to dwell on this. You have to get to work soon. You step out of your recuperacoon, too lost in thought to wonder why the sopor slime wasn't doing its fucking job and suppressing your nightmares. After toweling the slime off, you put on your uniform and stand in your respiteblock.  
  
Your name is LATULA PYROPE, but according to the traditions of your culture, you go by your adult title REDGLARE. Real names were reserved for the children who had not yet come of age. You are a tealblooded troll, 9.2 solar sweeps of age, and a NEOPHYTE LEGISLACERATOR serving the Alternian Empire. Your HOBBIES include... well, nothing really. You've spent your entire life studying and training to fit the role that tealbloods in Alternian society were supposed to fill, and you've had little time for pleasure activities. Filling your quadrants was also entirely out of the question. Ever since you pupated, you've striven to become the best legislacerator you could be, and you've sworn a personal oath to serve the empire to the best of your ability. You speak with 4 c3rt41n s3t of num3r4ls th4t h4v3 4lw4ys b33n 1mprt4nt to you. You don't know why these numerals are important, but you've been fond of them since you could first speak.

Your palmhusk vibrates as you get a message. It's a PM from your supervisor, telling you to arrive at the subjugglator building instead of the legislacerators offices. This was incredibly odd, but you've never disobeyed a direct order and you weren't going to start now. You grab your materials and exit your hive.

You hop into your scuttlebuggy and begin the drive to work. You hear a growl behind you as your dragon LUSUS, PYRALSPITE, is relaxing on the roof of your hive. The subjugglator building is on the opposite end of the city, so you decide to take a shortcut and cut right through downtown. This is a highblood neighborhood, and all of the high rises surrounding you are occupied by ceruleanbloods, indigobloods, and purplebloods. Seadwellers are royalty and typically live in isolated palaces under the waves, although sometimes you can spot a few violetbloods milling about the city streets. The empress, HER IMPERIAL CONDESCENSION, is the only living fuschiablood as the jadebloods are under strict orders to cull any fuschiablood grubs. As a midblood, you were never allowed the luxury of living in a downtown area. Instead, your modestly average hive is located in a nearby subgrub. You have a few cerulean friends, although most indigos and purples refuse to even talk to you. You fully accept this as a fact of life, and don't think much of it. It's just how things are on this bitch of an Alternia.

You arrive at the subjugglator building. As you walk through the doorless entrance, you realize that the whole "building" was basically a colossal circus tent. Facepainted purpleblooded subjugglators enter and exit in waves, always on duty to keep the lower castes in check. You make your way into the main area and spot an ENORMOUS purpleblood sitting upon a gigantic throne. Standing well over ten feet tall, his mere presence is enough to send chills down your spine. You feel slightly sick as you realize the purpleblood and everything around you is coated in blood from every caste. You think back to your nightmare. _1s th1s th3 f1gur3 from my dr34ms??_ , you wonder. You then realize that he is simply too large to be the one haunting your sleep.

Standing nearby (although not too close to the purpleblood, you notice) is a indigoblood archeradicator. He's doing a much worse job at hiding his nervousness than you are, as he's sweating enough to practically fill an entire filial pail. Your attention is ripped from him as the purpleblood slowly rises from his chair. You manage to keep your cool as he slowly approaches you and looks you over as if you're a piece of meat. You gulp as you finally realize that he is none other than the head subjugglator himself: the GRAND HIGHBLOOD. The most powerful land-dweller on the entire planet and the individual personally assigned by The Condesce to keep the lower castes subjugated. The building practically shakes as he begins to speak:

GHB: STATE your NAME.

His voice is booming and terrifying, but at the same time it commands respect. You kneel down before him as the indigoblood does the same.

REDGLARE: n3ophyt3 r3dgl4r3.  
REDGLARE: 1 h4v3 4rr1v3d h3r3 4s r3qu3st3d.  
GHB: I already KNOW this. I was THE one THAT summoned YOU.

You are utterly confused. You are absolutely sure that the one who messaged you was your supervisor. You recognized her typing quirk and everything. As you look next to the Grand Highblood's bloodstained throne, you go pale and resist the urge to vomit. Lying beside the throne is the horrendously mutilated corpse of your former supervisor. Fresh teal blood still drips down the side of the throne and coats the Grand Highblood's clothing, and her blood pumper has been ripped from her chest. You are doing an incredibly excellent job at maintaining your composure as the Grand Highblood begins to speak again.

GHB: YOU have BEEN personally REASSIGNED, neophyte. I have AN assignment THAT requires THE best OF the BEST.  
GHB: OUT of THE rest OF your PEERS, you SCORED highest ON the BAR exam. YOU passed EVERY last ONE of YOUR classes WITH flying COLORS.  
GHB: BECAUSE of YOUR skill, I have DECIDED to PERSONALLY reassign YOU.  
GHB: YOU will NOW directly ANSWER to ME.

The chill down your spin grows worse as you realize the gravity of the situation. A large percentage of purplebloods aren't exactly the most stable trolls, but the Grand Highblood is notorious for being many tiers higher in terms of brutality and unpredictability. You have to directly answer to THIS maniac? This situation was not a matter of if he'll eventually kill you, but WHEN he'll eventually kill you. You resist the urge to sob as you respond with the same grace and composure as before.

REDGLARE: wh4t 4r3 th3 t3rms of my r34ss1gnm3nt??  
GHB: YOU will REPORT to THIS place NOW.  
GHB: YOU will RECEIVE your ORDERS from ME, and YOU shall FOLLOW them RIGHT down TO the LETTER and PUNCTUATION.

You have no idea how it's possible to follow an order down to the fucking PUNCTUATION, but you'll have to figure out soon because it's your life on the line here.

GHB: YOUR performance WILL be NOTED constantly, AND failure TO meet EXPECTATIONS will RESULT in YOUR immediate CULLING and REPLACEMENT.  
GHB: YOU will be WORKING closely WITH this ARCHERADICATOR here, EXECUTOR darkleer. HE is OF equal SKILL to YOUR own IN regards TO his ROLE, and YOU shall BE partnered WITH him FOR your FIRST assignment.

You feel no extra fear from the prospect of being culled for under-performance, because that's just standard for any occupation on Alternia. However, you look at Darkleer standing next to you and wonder how this idiot hasn't been culled on sight by the Grand Highblood. He's sweating so much that he might as well be an indigo waterfall. His skills must be worth keeping him alive, you figure.

DARKLEER: (ಠ益ಠ;) < It is an honor to be serving under you, Grand Hayb100-  
GHB: SILENCE, zahhak.

Darkleer recoils at the remark, and you wince as you feel intense secondhand embarrassment. Having any part of your real name revealed is considered incredibly shameful among adult trolls. It is likely that Darkleer won't be living this down for a long while. He seems to get the message, as he refuses to speak any further.

You build up the nerve to speak.

REDGLARE: 1 und3rst4nd.  
REDGLARE: wh4t 1s th3 n4tur3 of my 4ss1gnm3nt, h1ghblood??

The Grand Highblood furrowed his brow, as if trying to remember the details.

GHB: THERE has BEEN a group TRAVELING the PLANET, spreading SOME sort OF "sermon". I have RECEIVED word THAT they WILL arrive IN this CITY soon.  
GHB: WE don't KNOW much ABOUT the KIND of MESSAGE they ARE spreading, BUT it DAMN sure ISN'T about THE mirthful MESSIAHS.  
GHB: REPORTS claim THAT the MESSAGE they SPREAD is ONE that IS opposite OF everything ALTERNIA stands FOR, and IF left UNCHECKED it COULD spark REBELLION.  
GHB: THEY are EXPECTED to REMAIN in THE city FOR a FEW perigrees. WHILE they ARE here, YOU and DARKLEER are TO attend EVERY single ONE of THEIR sermons AND determine HOW much OF a THREAT this GROUP poses.  
GHB: IF you ARE to DEDUCE that THEY are INSPIRING treason, YOU have MY authority TO arrest AND execute THEM all.

You have heard of this group before, but you don't know much about them. All you know is that they've gained a following over the last several sweeps. If they were encouraging a rebellion, then they would be highly dangerous indeed. You decide to risk asking a question.

REDGLARE: how w1ll w3 1d3nt1fy th3m?

Luckily, the Grand Highblood seems to be in a good(?) mood. He answers your question without any sign of aggression.

GHB: WE have DETERMINED the IDENTITY of THEIR leader. HE is CLAD in RED gray ROBES and IS reportedly A phenomenal PUBLIC speaker, SO he IS sure TO be SURROUNDED by a CROWD.  
REDGLARE: wh4t 1s h1s n4m3??

He pauses for a few moments, as if he is trying to remember.

GHB: HE has NO name. BUT, he SHOULD be EASY to IDENTIFY because OF one TRAIT that STANDS out.  
GHB: HE is SIGNLESS.


End file.
